


Compliance

by ConvenientAlias



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Background R/C, Creepy Erik, M/M, Sexual Assault, Stockholm Syndrome, just a little bit of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 15:11:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12773682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/pseuds/ConvenientAlias
Summary: Erik puts his hands on Raoul’s waist and Raoul already wants to be gone. He says, “Christine is waiting for me. I said I would meet her after the show.”“Yes,” Erik purrs. “But you came to me first.”





	Compliance

Erik summons Raoul to meet him in Box Five by letter. Raoul goes because of course he goes, he always goes when Erik calls him, these days at least. Everyone in the opera house bends to Erik’s will in some way or other. It’s not like he’s all that different than any of them. Not that different from, say, Firmin and Andre who are rearranging their cast lists for Erik, or Madame Giry who dotes on his every word, or Christine who waited to accept Raoul’s proposal until she had Erik’s permission. Raoul isn’t any worse than any of them just because from him, Erik always asks for more.

This is what he tells himself.

He slides into the box at the end of the night’s opera and Erik greets him with a slow smile. It is shadowed, this box, and even the parts of Erik’s face not covered by the mask are still hard to see. Raoul would be just as happy to see none of that face at all.

But Erik comes closer until his face comes into resolution, and he takes Raoul’s hands and pulls him over to stand in the corner. The door behind them is closed. Raoul can’t remember whether he shut it behind him or not.

Erik puts his hands on Raoul’s waist and Raoul already wants to be gone. He says, “Christine is waiting for me. I said I would meet her after the show.”

“Yes,” Erik purrs. “But you came to me first.”

Raoul closes his eyes. Not any different from any of the other members of the Opera Populaire. God, he could consider himself to be one of the braver ones because at least he tried to resist. He told the gendarmes all he knew about Erik through Christine, back before he and Erik even met. That seems like a long time ago now.

Yes, it is a long time now since he and Erik first met. He can remember it, though, remember it with the same clarity of the folk tales M. Daae used to repeat over and over to him when he was a child. That is how many times he has thought it over, twisted it one way and another in his head, tried to figure out what he did wrong.

It was really only about a year ago. He heard an odd noise in a corner of one of an empty costume room—Christine had left him there for only a minute while she went to talk to someone else—and he went to investigate. But as he peered into the darkness someone snuck up behind him and pinned him to the wall, bigger and stronger than him, and whispered in his ear, “So you are the Vicomte.”

He struggled. It did not occur to him to scream—maybe it was the whisper that did that to him. But he said in a soft but angry voice, “Yes, and who the hell are you, monsieur? I do not like your joke.”

The person let go of him, and when he turned around he saw a tall figure in dark clothing and a white mask. He immediately knew it to be Erik. This was how all who had seen him described him.

“I heard you were hunting for me,” Erik said. “But I don’t like being caught.” His smile was darkly lazy even then, already presumptuous. “How about you play the prey instead from now on, hm?”

He didn’t do anything that time, only made threats and insinuations and left before Christine got back. But after that they met again, and again, and again, and again. Never when Raoul was looking for him, always when he was off guard. And every time Erik grew a little more aggressive, a little more insinuating.

Raoul refused to acknowledge those insinuations until the first time Erik forced a kiss. Then he hissed something about how disgusting Erik was, and Erik only laughed and told him he’d seen it coming even if he pretended he hadn’t, that he’d wanted it. After that, he rarely stopped with insinuations.

But that was all months ago. These days Raoul is never surprised when Erik steals kisses or touches him or threatens him or does anything, really. He’s come to realize Erik likes shocking people and he likes fighting with people and that was probably what drew him to Raoul in the first place. Erik’s never gone farther than threats with Christine or the managers or Madame Giry, has he? These days Raoul tries to fight less and be more like them. Sooner or later Erik is bound to lose interest.

Not tonight, though.

Tonight he kisses Raoul as eagerly as if it’s been years since they last met, even though in reality they met only the week before. He cradles the back of Raoul’s head when they kiss, absently ruffling his hair. He didn’t used to be this affectionate or gentle. Raoul wonders, sometimes, if anyone’s ever let him be this gentle with them before, if Raoul is the first or if Erik has had lovers (obsessions? Victims?) before him. Part of him resents the thought of being just the last in a line of people Erik has kissed and caressed. But that’s a very illogical part of himself, he knows, and he tries all the time to make it shut up.

Erik is nothing but an enemy, but a threat.

(Erik lowers his mouth to Raoul’s neck and sucks.)

Erik is…someone Raoul will get rid of eventually, someone he will leave behind as soon as he can convince Christine to leave the Opera Populaire. Raoul doesn’t enjoy this. He likes Christine. It would be hypocritical of him to enjoy this. It would mean he wanted it from the beginning, that he’s really as much of a fake as Erik claims.

(Erik pulls a gasp from Raoul’s mouth as he lightly bites down on the skin over a tendon. Raoul’s hands hover over his neck, unsure whether to pull Erik away or hold him close.)

Erik is something Raoul puts up with. Because he has to obey Erik. Everyone does. It’s pointless to do otherwise.

Erik straightens at last. He plants a final kiss on Raoul’s lips. Smirking, he says, “Is Christine still waiting for you to kiss her?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Erik frowns. He grabs a handful of Raoul’s hair and pulls it. Raoul squeaks and shoves him away. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Violence from Erik surprises him more now—usually Erik is gentle lately. It puts him off his guard.

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter,” Erik says. “You’re not very good at kissing, anyhow. Probably I’m the only one who’ll put up with you.” He smoothes Raoul’s hair down, ignoring how Raoul tenses at his touch. “I can’t imagine she’s very good, either. Well, no one expects much from a wife…”

Raoul goes to the door. “Is that all you wanted?”

Erik laughs. “Go ahead.”

As Raoul leaves the box he hears Erik finish what he was saying. “That’s why you’ll come back to me, isn’t it?”

This time he knows he shuts the door behind him. But when he glances back as he walks away he sees that it is still open.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was my second attempt at writing creepy E/R for a prompt from generalsleepy. I think this one's a lot creepier.  
> Comments and kudos appreciated.


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